Friday, September 30, 2011

Friday Love Poem: Teresa Gilman!


Licking the roof of my mouth afterward,
I sucked the syrup residue, the sweet

cream sliding down my throat of his kiss, a tang
of sauce flecked with  ginger  scintillating

behind each tooth,  and it spread me out
into the early May dusk, jewelled through me

like a river in the sun’s last light,
circling and washing,  and slipped underground

into jagged caves, cutting a new way
into my song, like clovering bees,  a slide

of stones underfoot, the rearrangement
of  all  my  molecules.

                 for Jim

 published in “Roses in the Sand, Your Hand” (FootHills, 2006)

Bio:   Teresa Gilman thinks the more  the  work looks like fooling around doing ‘nothing’ the closer
it is to her real work.   She writes poems and letters, looks after dogs,  practices yoga, and misses people. A lot.

A new chapbook “Itching,  itching”  coming out this fall from Finishing Line Press.    Click on “Forthcoming Titles and New Releases”  , then scroll down the alphabetical list.

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